Know Thine Adversary on hold
by nicole813711
Summary: Meddlesome old Dumbledore is up to his tricks again. When Harry and Snape find themselves arguing once more , Dumbledore takes it into his own hands. He locks the pair in the Room of Requirement with one order: they can not be released until they 'bury the hatchet'. The room fulfills these tasks in the form of books: books detailing Harry's life. Fifth year-reading the books
1. The Room of Requirement

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

"He is arrogant, irresponsible, lacking determination, an underachiever, has no respect, thickheaded-" Severus Snape ranted as he paced along the table at the Order Headquarters of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was speaking to Albus Dumbledore and the person in question was none other than Harry Potter. It was the winter break of Harry's fifth year and they (Severus and Harry) had just finished an Occlumency lesson. It was apparently clear that Harry was no natural which frustrated Severus- a man known for little patience.

"_He_ is sitting right here, you know, and _he_ has a name! I know I'm no natural but maybe if you actually taught me instead of attacking me-" Harry started again. They had been ranting for the past half hour over each other's faults while Dumbledore simply listened, letting them release their frustrations, and only stepping in when necessary to stop bloodshed.

"Yes, Attention-seeking, famous _Harry Potter_ wants everyone to wait on him hand and foot-"

"Would you stop with that nonsense? I'm sick of everyone talking about me! Chosen one _this_, Chosen one _that_-"

"Trust me, Potter, you are no 'chosen one' to me! You are like every other student-"

"Which is what I have been trying to explain to everyone! You admit it! I'm just Harry so stop calling me a famous attention-seeking-"

"As if you don't enjoy every minute of your precious fame," Snape sneered at him, causing Harry to stop. He winced slightly as everything came crashing back to him: his parents' murder, his undeserved fame, the madman after him, the death of Cedric, the annoying 'chosen one' talk, the whispers, the stress, the lies- all of it. Harry hated every minute of it. He hated thinking on what Snape said as it always brought him back to reality and all the pressure returned. Snape thought he was a spoiled brat yet he didn't know- no one _really_ knew.

"You don't know the half of it," he found himself mumbling before he could stop himself. Both men raised their eyebrows but it was Dumbledore who finally spoke.

"You both have held on to these hostilities for far too long and I am astounded and ashamed in both of you. You are both fighting for the same cause. The least you two could do would be to act cordial instead of aiming to wound. I will solve this once and for all. Follow me," Dumbledore said as he stood, walking to the grate. He grabbed a fistful of floo powder and threw it in, mumbling 'Hogwarts'. Snape and Harry glared at each other before following his lead- Harry first and then Snape. They arrived in the Headmaster's office and followed a silent Dumbledore out the door and down the stairs. They marched through the silent halls, not meeting anyone as it was late and very few had stayed for the break that year. They climbed stairs and slunk through the halls until they finally stopped at the blank stretch of wall on the seventh floor- the Room of Requirement.

Fear flooded Harry for a moment as he thought they may have found out about his little 'group' but his irrational fear soon vanished as the door that had appeared swung open. Dumbledore motioned for the two to enter the room and they obliged, walking into the large room. They stared around before hearing a sharp click and spinning to see a blank stretch of wall behind them. The door was gone.

"What the-" Harry started but a glare from Snape silenced him. Snape walked towards the wall.

"Albus must have thought that locking us in this room would benefit us somehow. Obviously the room will fit our needs but it will not open until we complete the task we are here for," Snape said thoughtfully, wondering what Albus could possibly want from them. With a sigh, Harry turned to face the room and walked towards the two armchairs with a coffee table between them. He frowned upon reaching the table and cocked his head slightly to read the book on the table which was upside down. He spun it around and glared prominently at the title. The book read: _**Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**_. Next to the book was a folded slip of parchment which he lifted gingerly and unfolded. The note read:

_Dear Severus and Harry,_

_ You both may be wondering as to why I have locked you in this room. I have asked the room to fit a certain criteria: you two will not leave the room until you both have gotten to know each other. The room shall change to fit all your needs: sleeping quarters, food, facilities, etc. I shall leave it to the room to employ whatever methods are necessary but know this: neither of you will leave the room until the hatchet is buried, so to speak. Therefore, I implore that you oblige to whatever tasks or methods the room uses to do so. Do not try to kill each other_

_ Albus Dumbledore_

Harry glanced between the letter and the book. Was this one of the methods the room was using to fulfill the task set by Dumbledore? He shook himself and decided that he might as well ask Snape for his opinion, as much as he despised doing so.

"Professor," Harry called over his shoulder, not glancing or turning to look at the professor. Barely a second passed before a shadow hovered over Harry, reading over his shoulder. Snape glanced between the letter and the books and shook his head, growling slightly.

"You always were a meddlesome fool, Albus," Snape muttered to himself as he paced back and forth in silent anger. He was quite an imposing figure- one such that Harry was apprehensive at being locked in the room with him this angry.

"What-"

"It obviously means that we are stuck here, Potter. It's just as the letter said."

"I know that but I was wondering if this meant we had to read that _book_," Harry said as he glanced over at the book. Snape followed his gaze and nodded.

"Yes, Potter. We most likely have to read this pitiful book detailing your spoiled life." Harry glared at his potions master who just didn't seem to understand that he was _Harry_ Potter and not _James_ Potter.

"As I said before, you don't know anything about my life!" Snape smirked at Harry, realizing he had touched a nerve.

"Is that so, Potter? What could have possibly went wrong in your spoiled life? Did your cat die?" Snape sneered, taunting Harry. Harry, who had carefully controlled his anger until then, lost it.

"What could be wrong with my life? Oh, let's see- a lot! My parents are dead, my dad's friend betrayed him, I never get to see my godfather, Dumbledore is avoiding me like the plague, Umbridge is out to get me as is the Ministry, the Daily Prophet is spreading stories about how I'm such a liar, I have a psychopath out to rule the world trying to murder me every other day, I witnessed a friend die in a tournament I never wanted to be in, I saw Voldemort come back to life and narrowly escaped with my own. The Dementors have a strong affect on me like no other, I can see those damn threstrals which is just another sign that I've witnessed death, I am constantly being called 'chosen one' or 'boy-who-lived', whispers and stares follow me through the halls, I'm stuck in a room with you, I have to constantly deal with yours and everyone else's accusations, and my uncle hi-" Harry stopped abruptly at that. He had worked himself up so that he had been about to reveal his most carefully guarded secret: his uncle abused him.

His aunt knew about the beatings yet she did nothing and let Vernon continuously abuse Harry. The beating hadn't stopped and continued every summer, each more dreadful than the last. It was as if he was trying to make up for the whole school year's worth of beatings and it had gotten far worse since he came to Hogwarts to learn to be a wizard. Now Uncle Vernon had new reason to beat him: to beat the magic out of him for in his eyes, being slightly different was criminal. He sighed, thinking of how different his life may have been if only his parents were still alive. Guilt washed over him as he was reminded, yet again, that they would have been alive if he had never been born. If he had never existed… He looked back up, not really looking at Snape but through him- looking at something only he could see. He choked down a sob as he looked so distant and spoke in a strained voice as he sank onto the couch that had just appeared.

"I never even got to know them. Do you know what I see every time I look into the Mirror of Erised?" Harry asked softly and sadly, still having the lost look in his eyes. Snape hesitated slightly before walking closer to Harry. The movement from Snape caused him to come back to the present, his face hardened. Snape hesitated again before sitting down on the other end of the couch to listen to the boy.

"When I look in that mirror, I see them- with me. I see the three of us and none of this ever happened. I don't have a scar, the world is at peace- Voldemort never existed. I see my life with my parents, just how it should have been!" Harry shouted the last part and stood abruptly from the couch, enraged. He paused before his face softened and he continued, seemingly upset and embarrassed. "And sometimes, horrible as it sounds, I see myself, finally getting revenge for what he took- for what should have been mine." He turned around, finally gaining the courage to look at Snape. "I see myself killing Voldemort." He shook his head and looked away. It was ridiculous! Why had he told _Snape_ of all people this? He would only use it against him sometimes in the future! Yet, why did he feel that Snape wouldn't judge him for this? Why did he feel that Snape knew exactly how he felt?

Snape sat quietly on the couch, thinking about what Harry had said. He looked into his eyes- the exact replica of Lily's and felt a flash of pain fly through him. He was now looking at Lily's eyes on James' face, filled with pain far beyond their years. He wondered at how much these experiences had truly damaged the boy in front of him and he wondered why he hadn't seen this pain earlier. He knew Harry had had no incredibly spoiled life and he knew Harry had lost his parents but he had never imagined the boy to be in this much pain. Perhaps, just perhaps, he had been too harsh on the boy all these years. He would hate to know he added more pain to Lily's son's life, even if he was also Potter's son.

They stared at each other for a while, lost in their own musings, and waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, just- never mind. Forget I said anything at all." He turned away and watched as a door across from him appeared. He made his way to it, opened it, and walked in, shutting the door behind him. Snape sat in silence for a moment before crossing the room to the door and opening it silently. He stood in the door way and looked around the room.

The room was very similar to the Gryffindor common room with schemes of gold and crimson. There was a single couch in front of the roaring fire and upon it sat Harry. He was holding a mug of what looked to be tea and was flipping through a book, tears pouring from his eyes and trailing down his cheeks.

Snape walked into the room, crossing it silently, and stopped behind the couch Harry sat on, glancing over his shoulder. Snape felt another short spasm of pain as he looked at the photo album in Harry's hands. There was a photo, most likely taken by James, of Lily holding baby Harry. He watched in silence and did not protest as Harry flipped the page, revealing a photo of them- this time with James too. He looked at the photo of Lily laughing, baby Harry giggling, and James smiling. He glanced down at Harry- the fifteen year old version, to see the tears dripping into the tea which looked like it hadn't even been touched.

Snape took a couple of steps back, watching the back of the crying boy in silence, wondering what to do. He stood like that for a few minutes, his own body numb as he remembered the pain he had been in- still was in, over Lily's death. Yes, he too knew what it was like to lose someone dear and they had both lost the same person, though she played different roles in their lives. He too had even lost a mother, remembering the day she had died. Though they never had had a good relationship, he had still been plenty upset by her death. He too knew the hardships of life as he had been tortured relentlessly for what he was during his schooling.

Finally, he managed to move and took a few steps to the back of the couch. He walked around the edge and sat down on the seat next to Harry. Neither looked at each other and Snape was still rather unsure how to handle the situation. Though he may be able to sympathize with Harry, he still wasn't used to these situations- never mind one dealing with his… not least favorite but definitely not favorite student.

"Potter- er- Harry," he obliged, though rather pained. "I understand it is… difficult-"

"Difficult? What do you know about _difficult_, Professor?" Harry muttered under his breath, trying to wipe the tears away.

"I won't pretend to know _exactly_ what you are going through but I do understand… loss," he said at last. Harry frowned at him.

"And what have _you_ lost, Professor?" Snape sighed slightly and looked around, looking anywhere but Harry.

"I have lost my mother, and my parents were good as dead to me-"

"How can you say that? How can you sit there and say that to my face when you damn well-"

"Language, Mr. Potter,"

"Know that I don't have parents. You are lucky," Harry finished, ignoring Snape's comment. Snape sighed and looked away again, knowing it was pointless and tactless to reprimand Harry again despite what he had just said.

"There's a… difference. While you never knew your parents, I did. You can pretend- you know they were good people whereas I… can't," he said at last, carefully choosing his words though it pained him to tell any of this to Harry at all.

"What do you mean, Professor?" Harry asked quietly, wondering at what his professor was talking about.

"I'm not sure I feel comfortable sharing-"

"Why not? We'll most likely be reading about _everything_ I've been through," Harry said bitterly, thinking about the abuse he suffered through his life. Snape watched Harry out of curiosity and wondered what it was that the boy kept alluding to.

"Fine- my mother, though a Witch, was like your Aunt-"

"You know my Aunt Petunia, Professor?" Harry asked, starting to get excited. If Snape knew Aunt Petunia then wouldn't it stand to reason that he would have known his mother, Lily, too?

"Yes, I knew Tuney," he said, smirking at the memories he had of Lily and her arrogant sister which he looked upon fondly. "Yes, I knew her. My mother, as I was saying, was very much like her- nosy, arrogant, pompous, and… my mother also did nothing. She watched it happen."

"What do you mean by '_it_', Professor?" Harry asked hesitantly, unsure of whether he liked where this was going. After all, he was content to continue disliking the most hated Potions Master.

"My father was an alcoholic, Potter, and I'm sure you can guess what I mean now," Snape said and he stood to walk behind the couch and pace. Harry turned in his seat to watch his Professor as it dawned on him. Harry's Uncle and Snape's father were similar in the respect that both- both were alcoholics and abused their charges. Harry frowned at that, wondering if Snape really was an abused child just like him.

"Professor, do you mean to say that- that your father… abused you?" Harry asked at last, praying that the answer was no despite the fact he didn't really like Snape. Snape turned away and didn't answer, though it was answer enough for Harry. "I'm sorry, Professor," he said at last, realizing, just like Snape, that they both had more in common than they once thought.

"You can see what I mean by them being 'dead' to me. Never the less," Snape said as he turned around with a sigh. "My mother wasn't exactly horrible to me and it was rather… unsettling when she passed. So yes, Potter, I do know about familial loss. I also understand the loss of a friend, such as Cedric," Snape said quietly, looking away again.

"You lost your friend, Professor?" Harry asked quietly, his stomach sinking. He was feeling worse and worse by the minute and rather ashamed of his hatred towards Professor Snape. After all, he wasn't cold or heartless- he simply had lost a lot in his life.

"Yes, my one and only best friend, Mr. Potter," Snape said quietly, pacing again. Harry watched him in silence, wondering who it could have been.

"If it's alright with you Professor, will you- will you tell me who?" Snape gave a weary and tired chuckle- the first chuckle Harry had heard come from the man.

"I figured you would ask Potter- always curious you are. You have Lily's curiosity- I would have been disappointed if you hadn't asked," Snape muttered truthfully. He didn't like telling the boy all of this but he knew he had to as they never would get out if they didn't share their past with each other. He was also comforted by the fact that the books would most likely spill some of Harry's darker secrets. Snape sighed as Harry's eyes lit up in excitement.

"You knew my mum, Professor?"

"Yes, Potter, I knew Lily," he said as he turned to look out a window on the opposite wall. He could see the grounds and the black lake from there, the moon hanging high in the sky. "Yes, Potter- Lily was in fact that friend I spoke of," he said at last.

"You were best friends with my mum?" Harry asked, his tears completely gone with no trace left of them. He stood and walked to the window, standing next to Snape and staring out. Snape gave another weary chuckle.

"Yes, we were. We lived near each other, in fact, and we were in the same year, as well as your godfather, father, and Lupin." Harry nodded at this and sat on the window sill, looking out at the lake, and leaving Snape standing. Snape felt another pang of sorrow and guilt as he reminded himself that _he_ was the cause for both Lily's death and Harry's suffering.

"So you knew my mum," Harry echoed, his mind running through the possibilities.

"I do believe I already said that, Mr. Potter," Snape said. "I am curious, Mr. Potter, as to what you had been going to say about your Uncle before," he said, turning to face Harry. "What were you going to say… Harry?" He asked. Harry looked up at him in shock before looking away.

"If it isn't mentioned in the book, I'll tell you," he said quietly. Snape nodded at that and sighed, turning towards the door.

"Shall we start reading, then?" he asked as Harry jumped up from the sill and followed him out into the main room.

"I guess. I'll read first," Harry said and, with that, he lifted the book and flipped open to the first chapter.

**A/N: Well, this is my first shot at a reading the books fanfiction. It's only the first chapter and it's a teaser. I'll post a list of story teasers in a poll and you have to vote on the one or two that you like best! The two or three stories with the highest votes are the ones that I will start to write! The others I will leave for a rainy day when I'm bored and have nothing better to do!**

**On a side note, this will _not_ become a Snarry fanfiction. I don't mind reading Snarry fanfictions but I just can't write one myself! It'll strictly be a friendship or potentially a mentor based fanfiction!**

**Anyways, let me know what you think! If you wish to review as well, that is great as I might decide to take reviews into consideration as well. I'm not sure yet but, enjoy!**


	2. HPSS: The Boy Who Lived

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

**_A/N: Well, congratulations to all who voted/ reviewed for the continuation of this story! This story as well as Lost In Time has won. Anyways, Anything in _Bold _from here on out will be the part of the actual book. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the second chapter!_**

**The Boy Who Lived**

"Very good Potter, you can read," Snape said sarcastically, smirking at him. Harry shook his head, no longer taking offense. After what he discovered about Snape, he figured this was just his playful teasing as it most certainly did not sound like his snarky and malicious behavior.

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.**

At that both Snape and Harry snorted slightly and they glanced at each other, both slightly shocked.

"Petunia is anything but normal- she wanted to be a witch herself," Snape muttered and Harry laughed slightly.

"Yes and My Uncle is most certainly not a normal guardian… at least not to me," Harry said bitterly, causing Snape to wonder at his behavior yet again.

**They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

** Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neightbors.**

At this, Snape snorted again, causing Harry to look up from the book at him in curiosity. When Snape caught the look Harry was giving him, he said, "Tuney hasn't changed one bit. She's still spying on people and getting into people's business when it does not concern her," he muttered with a slight smirk. Yes, he remembered all those times he and Lily would catch Tuney spying on them… sadly, most ended in Lily being called a freak and Lily crying.

Harry nodded at this and turned back to the book. There was a lot to be revealed about his potions master, and he was liking him more and more by the moment. He wondered if he would share many other stories about his mother and aunt as this went on.

**The Dursleys had a small son-**

Harry snorted at this and, seeing Snape's raised eyebrow, said, "Dudley is anything but small."

**-called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

** The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister-**

Snape hissed at this before standing up suddenly and pacing the room. Harry stopped reading to look up at him in curiosity. Snape was glaring at the far wall which, as Harry noticed, a portrait of his Aunt appeared- a moving one at that. He knew what would happen now- Snape would probably end up arguing with the portrait of his Aunt, very similar to his real aunt but merely a shadow of her. It did seem to capture her personality.

"You didn't deserve Lily as a sister, Petunia," Snape snarled at the portrait, seemingly oblivious to Harry who was now standing up as well.

"You're right, Severus- I deserved far better. I deserved more than the freak that she was- an abnormality," she snapped back. Snape looked absolutely thunderous now as he turned to glare at Petunia.

"She was a far better person than you'll _ever_ be, Petunia. At least _she_ didn't talk rubbish about others to make herself feel better," he snapped back, glaring at the portrait with such fury. Harry couldn't help but wonder if there had possibly been more than just friendship between his mother and his professor…

"Then you admit she was a freak? An abnormality?" She hissed at him, smirking. Snape's expression darkened even more.

"The only freak and abnormality here is you, _Tuney_," he sneered the name at her. The portrait's expression also darkened as she glared back.

"I told you never to call me that!"

"I'll call you whatever I damn well please you-" He was cut off though, by Harry roughly grabbing his arm.

"Professor, calm down. You're not the only one who knows how worthless she is," he said quietly so only Snape could hear him. Snape, though still furious, whirled around and sat back down in his armchair, Harry following him.

"Don't turn your back-" The portrait started but Harry and Snape pulled out their wands and pointed it at her.

"Oh Shut up," Harry said at the same time Snape said, "_Incendio_". Harry watched as the portrait burst into flames and fell to the floor as ashes.

"You know, that's a useful one. I keep forgetting that one," Harry muttered before pulling the book to him so to continue reading.

**-because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.**

"That was probably the one intelligent idea Petunia ever had- Potter sure is a trouble maker," Snape said lightly, trying to make light of the situation. Harry grinned at him slightly.

"You know that isn't how it was meant, Professor."

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday-**

"How extraordinary," Snape couldn't help but comment.

"You're worse than me and _that's_ saying something, Professor," Harry exclaimed, smirking.

"Brat," Snape muttered.

**-our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily ashe wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.**

** None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.**

"Perhaps you ought to talk your Aunt and Uncle into getting glasses," Snape suggested. Harry looked away at this. Dare he even suggest something like that… well, he didn't want to think to much on the consequences of such an action. Snape noticed his reaction and frowned. "Potter-"

"If it isn't explained in the next couple of chapters, I'll tell you professor," Harry said quietly and continued to read.

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. **

"Charming," Snape muttered sarcastically.

"Professor," Harry groaned impatiently and started to read again.

**"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.**

** It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat-**

"Minnie," Harry said grinning. Snape looked at him in surprise.

"Firstly, how did you find out about that name and secondly how did you know it was Professor McGonagall, Potter?"

"First, Sirius and Remus told me. Secondly, what other peculiar _tabby_ cats would be reading maps and happen across Privet Drive where my relatives are? Call it a lucky guess but I'm pretty sure it's her."

**-standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back-**

"Minnie behavior!" Harry called. Snape just rolled his eyes.

**As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive-**

"Minnie," Harry hissed.

**-no, **_**looking**_** at the sign; cats couldn't read maps **_**or**_** signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

** But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.**

"Your Uncle seems to have quite a short attention span, Mr. Potter," Snape said quietly.

"Not when it concerns me," Harry muttered in reply, causing Snape to worry. His impression of Harry was slowly shattering by the minute.

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. **_**He**_** didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs-**

"The horror! My world has shattered!" Harry cried, causing Snape to jump.

**-and walk across the road-**

"It will never be the same again!" He yelled.

**-to buy himself a bun from the bakery.**

"Never mind, the world is right again," Harry sighed in relief.

"Would you just read the bloody book!"

"Okay, okay… grumpy ol' git."

"I am not grumpy and I am not old!"

"What about a git?" Harry received no comment.

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch was whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

** "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"**

** "-yes their son, Harry-"**

** Mr. Dursley stopped dead.**

"I wish," Harry muttered. Snape eyed Harry in curiosity- why would he say that?

"You shouldn't say that about your relatives, Potter," Snape said quietly. Harry just shook his head.

"You'll see," he said before continuing to read.

**Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

** He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache thinking… no, he was being stupid.**

"Nothing new there," Harry muttered.

**Potter wasn't such an unusual name.**

"Maybe not in the Muggle World but in the Wizarding World there is only one Potter family- an old pure blooded family," Snape said and Harry smiled slightly.

**He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew **_**was**_** called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.**

"He does know your name by now, right Mr. Potter?" Snape asked curiously.

"Maybe, but I'm just 'boy'," he answered before reading to avoid any more questions.

**There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if **_**he'd**_** had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks…**

** He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

** "Sorry,"**

"I can't believe he knows that word," Harry muttered.

**He grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare,**

Snape raised his eyebrows. Could it be…

**"Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

"Flitwick," Snape and Harry said at the same time. They looked at each other before Harry burst out laughing and Snape gave a wry smile.

**And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.**

"Somehow, I find it hard to believe his arms fit," Harry said. Snape raised an eyebrow at this and Harry responded, "He's so large I doubt it is possible for any pair or arms to fit."

**Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.**

** As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw- and it didn't improve his mood- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.**

"Minnie," Harry and Snape said at the same time. "Just don't tell her I called her that, Mr. Potter, or she would skin me alive," Snape said, rolling his eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow, a perfect imitation of the man in front of him.

"Oh really, is the big bad potions professor scared of tabby cat McGonagall now?" Harry asked, in a joking way. Snape shook his head, smirking slightly.

"Watch it Mr. Potter or you'll soon be on her bad side too. Her bad side is enough to scare even the Dark Lord." Harry shook his head and continued reading.

**"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.**

** The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.**

"Definitely Minnie," Harry said shuddering. "I've seen _that_ look before."

**Was this normal cat behavior?**

"No but it is Minerva's normal behavior," Snape said, sighing slightly.

**Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

"Coward," Snape said with a sly smirk.

"Yeah, like you would know, Professor," Harry muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Potter?" Snape asked, wondering what Harry had been mumbling. Harry hastily gave him a smile and covered his mistake.

"Nothing, nothing- I was just saying that you don't know my Uncle," Harry said which was true. _Yeah- he's no coward when he's giving me a belting_, he thought bitterly as he continued to read.

** Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley learned a new word ("Won't!"). **

"How _wonderful_," Snape said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

"Bet you're glad you got me as a student now, eh Professor?" Harry asked with a smirk causing Snape to roll his eyes again.

"I wouldn't go that far, Potter. Just read the book."

** Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

** "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"**

** "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

"It's amazing we weren't found out that day," Snape said. Harry sighed. He'd been trying his hardest not to let it be known he was aware it was _that_ day.

"Yeah, it does sound pretty miraculous… people honestly need to screw their heads on straight," Harry muttered before giving Snape a sneaky smile.

"Dunderheads," they both said at the same time, Harry imitating Snape as he did so, causing Snape to glare at him.

"And now I have my own parrot," Snape muttered to himself, shaking his head before rolling his eyes. "Just continue reading, Mister Potter."

** Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…**

"The Potters, oooh… soooo scary," Harry commented, shaking his head at his ridiculous uncle.

"Well, I do know that they're menaces when it comes to potions," Snape commented and Harry rolled his eyes.

** Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" **

"Nor will she," Harry muttered quietly. Snape, hearing him, also frowned.

** As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

"Again with this… I swear, if I ever see Tuney again, she'll pay dearly," Snape said out loud and Harry couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for his Aunt. After all, he knew first hand just how scary his Potions Master could be.

** "No," she said sharply. "Why?"**

** "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny- looking people in town today…"**

** "_So?_" snapped Mrs. Dursley.**

** "Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… _her_ crowd."**

"_Her_ crowd? … well, that may be a good thing 'cause we most certainly don't want to be a part of _their_ crowd," Harry said and Snape smirked.

** Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son- he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

** "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

** "What's his name again? Howard isn't it?"**

** "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

"Preposterous- that was the name of your grandfather, Harry- your mum and Aunt's father," Snape said quietly.

"Thanks Professor," Harry said, giving him a slight grin,

** "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

"Coward," Snape said again and Harry shook his head at his Potions Master.

** He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden .The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.**

** Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of- well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

"I feel the same way," Harry commented lightly.

** The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters _were_ involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on- he yawned and turned over- it couldn't affect _them_….**

"How very wrong he was," Snape muttered before giving Harry a smirk.

** How very wrong he was.**

"Are you parroting the book now, Professor?" Harry asked, giving him a cheeky grin.

** Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.**

Seeming to forget that the two were enemies, they both gave each other wry smiles and said, "Minnie" before laughing. Harry paused, coming back to his senses and realized that… well, he didn't think he'd _ever_ seen Snape smile, never mind laugh! He grinned slightly at his Professor before turning back to the book to read, realizing that there was so much about his professor that he didn't know. And he was determined to find out…

**Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

They both frowned slightly at the name and Snape commented, "When I get out of here, I think I may have to make that a third time." Harry, catching the reference to Dumbledore's nose couldn't help but laugh at that

**Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything form his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."**

"He probably should have," Snape muttered. "Minerva is always interfering in peoples' business," he continued. "At least she never leaves _me_ alone," Snape muttered.

"I wish. No, she leaves us Gryffindors completely alone except to stop parties and take care of emergencies but even then she's reluctant about it," Harry retorted before adding more quietly, "and she never listens to you." Snape frowned at this but decided to keep quiet and motioned for Harry to continue reading.

**He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.**

"Professor, do you know it that's really what it was called?" Harry asked, looking over to Snape while referencing the Put-Outer.

"No. I believe he calls it a deluminator- I'm not sure," Snape replied and Harry continued to read.

"**Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."**

**He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the marking the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.**

"**How did you know it was me?" she asked.**

"**My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

"**You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

"**All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

"Yeah, sure- go ahead and celebrate my parents' death day," Harry muttered bitterly, anger masking the true pain in his eyes. Snape lowered his eyes, looking away from the teen that he had always thought a pampered prince. He still did but he was wondering if maybe- just maybe- his experiences had affected him more than he cared to admit.

**Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

"**Oh yes, everyone's celebrating all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not cfompletely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

"**You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

"Yes and even more to now," Harry said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Voldemort was back and no one would believe him, thinking he was a lying attention seeking pratt. Why would he- Harry- lie about the man who murdered his parents being back?

"**I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."**

**She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as thought hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has_ gone, Dumbledore?"**

"**It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. **

"Meaning he knows something he doesn't care to share," Snape commented and Harry frowned.

"**We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

"**A _What_?"**

"**A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."**

"**No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone-"**

"**My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."**

"Because he's had no reason to- Voldemort is frightened of him," Harry said quickly before continuing to read.

"**I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_ was frightened of."**

"Told you," Harry commented off handily.

"And I didn't disagree, Potter," Snape retorted with a frown.

"**You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Volldemort had powers I will never have."**

"**Only because you're too- well- _noble_ to use them." **

"**It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the _rumors_ that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

**It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

Harry stopped here, reading the next few lines in silence before tears sprung to his eyes and he choked up. Without a word, Snape reached forwards and yanked the book from Harry's hands while he looked down, furiously wiping at his eyes as he tried to rid the tears.

"**What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and james Potter are- are- that they're- _dead_."**

Snape stopped reading at this and he too had light tears in his eyes. Harry couldn't look up from where he was staring at the floor, throat constricted and unable to speak. Snape quickly recomposes himself, pushing the pain and sorrow under layers upon layers of rock.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" He asks, managing to keep a straight face. Harry just shrugs and waves his hand as if to say 'continue reading'.

**Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.**

"**Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"**

**Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.**

**Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. Not one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone."**

Harry's head flew up at this and he snarled viciously, causing Snape to blink in surprise. "Yes, he couldn't at least have the decency to do the job right and kill me, could he now?" He asked bitterly, holding his head in his hands. Snape just sat across from him, unsure as to what to do. He realized that the teen was in distress but, after all, comfort wasn't exactly his forte.

"Mr. Potter-"

"Just keep reading, Professor."

**Dumbledore nodded glumly**

"**It's- it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"**

"Wouldn't we all like to know," Harry muttered bitterly, glaring daggers at the book in Snape's hands. Snape turned and glared at him.

"You have a perfectly fine life, Mr. Potter, so if you will- grow up," he bit out the retort nastily and Harry's eyes narrowed before he yanked the book away from his professor.

"Shows what you know," he replied before he started to read once more.**  
We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

**Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very old watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

"**Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you're here, of all places?"**

"**I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he had left now."**

"Wish they weren't," Harry mumbled.

"**You don't mean- you _can't_ mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

"**It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."**

Snape stared at the book in shock, blinking a few times as he tried to come to his senses. "A letter? That's it? Albus _really_ thought it could all be explained in a _letter_? He didn't even talk to Tuney?" he asked faintly as his expression darkened.

"What's it matter, Professor? Why should you care?" Harry asked, looking at the man who had made the prior four years miserable for him.

"I- well…" Snape trailed off, unsure of what to say. Harry rolled his eyes and proceeded to continue reading.

"**A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous- a legend- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future- there will be books written about Harry- every child in our world will know his name!"**

"**Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

**Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

"That is something I would rather _not_ think about," Harry muttered distastefully as he frowned at the book.

"**Hagrid's bringing him."**

"**You think it- _wise_- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

"I would trust Hagrid with my life!" Harry said hotly.

"**I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore**

"Copying, Albus now, Potter?" Snape asked with a smirk.

"**I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?"**

"Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, glancing around, wondering what the boy was talking about.

"It's part of the book, professor," Harry explained quickly before continuing to read.

**A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. **

**If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild_- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he he was holding a bundle of blankets. **

"**Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

"**Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."**

"**No problems, were there?"**

"**No, sir- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.**

"**Is that where-?" whispered Professor McGonagall.**

"**Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

"**Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

"**Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well- give him here, Hagrid- we'd better get this over with."**

"Well, that sucks. I wish I didn't have this," Harry muttered as he rubbed the scar on his forehead, looking up and glaring as if he could see the scar on his forehead.

**Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Durleys' house.**

"**Could I- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

"**Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"**

"**S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it- Lily an' James dead- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles-"**

"**Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. **

"Wow, thanks professor," Harry muttered sarcastically while rolling his eyes.

**He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

"**Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."**

"**Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

**Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

"**I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

**Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

"**Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.**

"I'll need all the luck I can get," Harry muttered, causing Snape to look at him again in surprise and worry.

**A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter- the boy who lived!"**

**"**Yes, to the bloody brat who lived," Snape said sarcastically, raising an imaginary glass. Harry glared at him before throwing the book which Snape caught just in time.

"Your turn to read, _professor_."

"I think you ought to write lines when we get out of here: _I will not throw books at my professors_," Snape replied with a glare.

"It's vacation and I technically went home for the holidays so you can't," Harry replied quickly.

"But we are at Hogwarts now so I can," Snape retorted before opening the book to the second chapter.

**A/N: As I said, this is the winner! Let me know if there are any mistakes or if you have any suggestions! Again, this will be strictly friendship as I can't write Snarry. **

**Please leave reviews! Now that this is an actual stories, 3 reviews = update!**


	3. Author's Note

**A/N: Okay, so I know I should not have made you all wait so long for this and I know that a lot of you will be extremely angry when you find out that this isn't another chapter but a stupid author's note. The issue is that I, at one point, had the first five chapters of this story written. This was when I first posted the teaser and the second chapter. Sadly, my computer crashed and I lost those chapters.**

**Since then, I have not been able to find the inspiration to rewrite those chapters. The original plot had been unique and one I was happy with. I now find I can barely remember what I had intended and I honestly have no freaking clue where to go with it. For now, as it has been, it will be on hold. **

**If, at some point, I get a burst of inspiration, I will most certainly update this story. Until then, I apologize. If you follow, I will be updating some of my other stories. If anyone would like to adopt this story, feel free to PM me. **

**Thank you.**

**Amendment: If anyone does choose to adopt the story, I will post another author's note with the name.**


End file.
